Enemy Skill Materia
by Midorima Kazunari
Summary: Reno has told so many lies that he doesn't remember them all, but Vincent wants to know the truth. (Set five years after Dirge of Cerberus).
1. Chapter 1 - Interrogation

"My mother did the best she could, considerin' the situation," I say sitting back and sparking my cigarette to life. I take a long drag in the silence.

"May I?" he asks. It is the first thing he's said in a while, and the dark bass voice sends a shiver up my spine.

"I didn't realize you smoked," I say, handing it to him.

"Don't all Turks?"

"You're not a Turk."

"Not anymore," he replies, "but then again, neither are you."

"Touché."

His pale lips purse against the end of the stick; he takes a quick puff, then a longer one before passing it back.

"And your father?"

"You're good at this; you must have been a hell of an interrogator back in the day. You've put me at ease and established a report all in a few simple gestures."

"I'm sure you've read my files. I was a case-study, after all."

"Every Turk has seen the pictures. You're a warnin' to us all."

The corner of his mouth quirks.

"And you're good with deflection."

"Have you read up on me?" I ask, sitting forward and tapping the cigarette on the edge of the ashtray.

"We wouldn't be here if I had. All your records were destroyed along with the Shin-Ra building.

"We're here because your buddy wants to know why his girl hates me," I counter. "But I'm not sure any records about me existed in the first place. Shin-Ra had a change in policy in Human Resources after Sephiroth went rogue."

"We'll come around to the subject at hand eventually."

"Look," I say, stubbing out the remnants. "It's convoluted, and I'm not sure he matters to the story."

"You don't think _I'll_ understand?" he gestures at himself and even shrouded in darkness, I can see a glint of gold metal. I laugh outright and in response he smiles. I'll concede the first point of the game to him. "Let me be the one to decide what's relevant."

"Alright, I'll back up, and I promise we'll get to him."

"Go on," he gestures with his right hand.

I am so used to seeing it gloved in leather, that I am caught off guard by the elegant appendage, and I must clear my throat in order to speak again

"My mother only had a fourth grade slum education. She went to work early at the Honey Bee, first as a peep show girl when she was thirteen, then as a stripper in the main room when she was fifteen. She fell in love, took a guy's word and money, and gave up her last bit of virtue. She had my older sister at seventeen."

"And was he your father as well?"

"Hell no, that asshole split after a few months, leavin' her a busted up girl no longer fit for the Honey Bee stage. She did the only thing she could to feed her baby and herself: rent out. One of those men – a figurative army of them – was our father."

"With red hair like yours…"

"Same color as my mother's," I sigh. "Who do you look like? Your mother or father?"

He contemplates the questions, his eyes boring into mine.

"Her when I was young, him when I grew into an adult."

Either way, he is beautiful, but that's not something I'm stupid enough to say aloud. He reminds me a little of Tseng.

"Once we were born, she had that sterilization procedure."

"Tubal ligation?"

"Sure, whatever it's called, but at least she finally figured out birth control. Did you know I had a twin sister before today?"

"It was never a concern of mine."

"Ha! As you can see, we're nothin' alike, but it doesn't take a Turk to figure that out."

"How about a drink?" He asks, motioning to the bar.

"Sure, I'll have a Shiva's Ice." He is so tall that in two strides, he's at the bar and reaching over the side for two blue bottles of beer. He twists the caps off, discards them, and is back to the table, placing one ice cold bottle in front of me.

"Thank you," I say. "So there we were, my mother and her three brats. She really did the best she could. We went to the Honey Bee Daycare, along with all the other stripper and prostitute's children. My older sister, Karina, was smart enough to go to the Sector's slum school. I had trouble learnin' to read, so they slapped a stupid sticker on me and sent me to work runnin' drugs when I was old enough, but my twin… she was a genius from the moment she first opened her eyes, or at least that's what mom told us. She went to the slum school as well. She excelled in all that book learning."

"How did you learn to read? From her? From the streets?"

"I learned because it helped me to survive, readin' seemed a luxury back then. I still don't read for fun, yo – a menu, a list of targets, an invoice – sure, but I get by as long as it isn't too fancy."

"That's a shame. Nanaki –"

"Can you see me sittin' around with a bunch of kids readin' _The Little Chocobo That Could_."

He shrugs. "It's not a bad story."

"When I was about twelve the recession hit. You were hibernating then, I think, but milk was six Gil a liter, a bag of rice was eight, and suddenly my mom couldn't feed the four of us on the little she was making. She might have been twenty-nine, but she already looked like an old woman. Our landlord, also her pimp, let himself in one night when we were eatin' a meal I'd pulled out of the dumpster, and he pointed at Karina and said, 'It's your turn, sweetheart.'"

He makes a soft sound at the back of his throat, as if choking on his swig of beer.

"She was pregnant less than a year later, thanks to our third-rate sex education and a total lack of condoms."

"A vicious cycle repeated in your family." There is a ghost of pain in his eyes, reflected back at me like an infinity pool.

"I still remember our last conversation." I peel the label off the empty bottle. "She had just found out that she was carryin' a boy and I made some flippant comment about being glad I wasn't gonna be outnumbered so badly anymore. She turned, glaring at me and asked, 'What will my son be? Will he run drugs like you or spread his legs like me?' She went into the bedroom, I went to work."

I get up and throw the bottle in the garbage can, stealing another one from behind the bar. When I can't find an opener, I hand it to him, he pops it, and gives it back.

"When I came home that night, I went into the bedroom to shower the day away and found her on our bed, her brains blown out on the comforter."

"Your mother and twin?"

"Thankfully, out. I called the authorities and had the worst of it cleaned up by the time they got back. The landlord came up that night and assessed the damage. He wrote up a bill and looked at my twin and said, 'You're up sweetheart.' You have any siblings?"

"None. I was close to my cousins when I was young, but circumstances have broken that connection."

"You should try findin' your family."

"Perhaps someday, but I think you're at the crux of the story, are you not?"

"You don't miss a thing, do you?"

"I was trained as a sniper."

"I couldn't stand the thought of my twin's brilliant brains spread on the wall as well, so I stood up and put on the cocky smile you all know and love –"

"That's debatable."

"But that's why we're here," I say with a laugh, "'No man, it's my turn.'"

"A noble sacrifice for your family. How old were you?"

"Fourteen. I ran drugs in the day and rented in the evening. She never spoke another word to me. She wouldn't look me in the eye or take anything I tried to give her. The only gift I could give her was breathin' room to be something better. She was the only one in our family smart enough to get us out of the slums and she eventually earned a scholarship to Junon University when she was seventeen. She left, and never looked back."

"Her accusations make sense now, in context at least."

"Nothin' she said was a lie," I say, sighing. "I was a 'stupid whore' no doubt. She has a right to be angry at me."

"Does she?" His eyebrows fly up.

"Everyone's got a right to their feelings. That's what the shrink at Shin-ra told me anyway."

He grunts an uncommitted sound, making me chuckle. "How'd you end up a Turk?"

"What?! My sordid childhood isn't enough for you? You some kind of sadist, taking pleasure from other's pain?"

"I'm merely curious. You have somewhere else to be tonight? When half the town wants to lynch you?"

"I guess when you put it that way, ha. It's a stupid story. Rude purchased my services."

"You and Rude? I thought he had a crush on Tifa?"

"Oh, man, does he ever! But sometimes when you can't have what you want, you'll settle for what's available. 'Sides, there's nothing wrong with playin' both teams as long as you're loyal to the one you're with."

I finish another bottle and am about to get up when he pushes his half-empty bottle across the table to me. I nod my thanks.

"What about you? Has there been anyone since –"

"No," he cuts me off, "But Cloud says I need to move on."

"That's pathetic."

The corner of his mouth lifts in a smile.

"Agreed. He purchased your services and then what?"

"Someone tried to kill him while I was ridin' him. I didn't take kindly to being shot at, so I helped Rude. Can you imagine two naked guys beatin' some asshole to death? Yeah, well, it was team buildin', and he recruited me before I had my pants back on. We've been partners ever since."

"Oh? Partners?"

"Not like that. He really is in love with Tifa, the poor guy. And even if he wasn't, he's my friend."

"You ever been in love?" he asks. I guess the question about his girl had been a bit uncalled for, so I couldn't blame him for asking.

"I'm not sure what love is. I _thought_ Rufus loved me for a while and I let him fuck me, but he was too much of a narcissist to love anyone. I kinda guess I gave up on all that shit."

"We are a matched set of dysfunction, aren't we?"

"What do you think? Can you convince your friend to not 'quarter me with chocobos and feed me to the Midgar Zolom?'"

"I will speak to him on your behalf. I'll get him drunk, then sober him up with tea and then he'll calm right down. Maybe once he knows what you did for Shera, he'll help you two reconcile."

"Don't hold your breath, Valentine."

"Kisaragi says that I need to try more optimism."

"It doesn't suit you."

"I'll report back that the experiment was a failure." He chuckles lightly. I finally score a point.

"I owe you for intercedin' when things went to hell earlier. You've definitely kept your Turk demeanor. Let me know when I can return the favor."

He stands, his armor creaking softly.

"Lock the door behind me," he says. "I can't guarantee your safety yet."

"Well, do me one last favor and come by and tell me the verdict before you go to sleep."

He stops at the door.

"I don't sleep often, Reno, I don't need to, but I'll be back once I've spoken to Cid."

"Thank you; you don't owe me nothin', yet you'd done right by me. I'm… thankful."

"Once a Turk, always a Turk," he says, putting his index finger to his brow and then sweeping it forward. He closes the door behind him, leaving only an intriguing scent: a mixture of metal, gun powder, and blood.


	2. Chapter 2 - Late Night Visit

Thanks to Valentine's help, I survive not only the first night, but the entire week after. A few people in town give me sideways glances, but that's no different than my time as a Turk, and it rolls off me like rain off an adamantoise's back. Business is about the same in the shop, electronics still need repairing, and I continue to be the best damn deal in town.

A sharp rap on the side door snaps me to attention. I am working in the garage installing speaker wire in some damn tiny crevices for a sound system on Cloud's bike and haven't looked up in so long that I have no idea of the time. I blink, focusing on the clock; it reads 10:19 pm. The knock comes again, a little louder.

"Just a sec," I call, wiping road dirt from my fingers onto a handy red shop rag. I slip the Electro Mag-rod around my wrist, just because a former Turk has more enemies than friends. The light by the door flickers blue as insects die in the sparks of electricity in the trap, but I can see no shapes beyond it to know who is at my door. I pop it open, leaving the chain across the lock. Vincent Valentine stands on my threshold, looking wane and brooding.

"Oh, it's you," I say, closing the door for the second it takes to remove the lock. His face is blank as I smile and let him in.

"Kinda late, Valentine, what's the occasion?"

"Your light was on. Am I disturbing you?"

"Nope, I was hyper-focused on a project and lost track of time. What can I do for you?"

"Hm," he mutters, surveying the workshop, his eyes cataloging everything until they come to rest on me.

"Your eyes remind me of –" I blurt out and then stop as I see the frown lines form at the corners of his mouth. "They're the color of my favorite wine. Want a glass? Or is this not a social call?"

His breathing slows as he relaxes and I am aware that something I'd just said angered him and was forgiven before I've even register the former.

"Business, but that doesn't preclude wine."

"Sit, I'll be right back."

He discards his cape, but not his armor, as I come back with three-quarters of a bottle and two clean glasses. The wine is a vintage I've enjoyed for years, and as I hold it up to the light for him, I see that I was right, they are the same color. I tug out the cork and fill our glasses.

"You need some electronics repaired?"

"No, I am…" he covers his hesitation by sipping the wine. "It's good. What is that? Cherry and gysahl?"

"Yeah, Tseng introduced me to it the first time he sent me to Wutai."

"Tseng, but he is a…?"

"Bastard? In more senses of the word than you mean, but he knows his culture even if they don't want to know him. He's not welcome in Wutai, so he sends me to pick up things for him and Elena all the time. I usually take his recommendations and buy myself some of the same. I actually like Wutainese."

"My mother was from Wutai. Kisaragi and I are actually distant relatives."

"You should ask him about his family – that is if you'll talk to him."

"I have spoken with him, and would have no reason not to in the future."

"Yeah," I say, "I shouldn't have doubted you. So, family aside, what can I do for you?"

"I'm working on mastering my Enemy Skill Materia. Rude mentioned that you used to have one that I am missing: Trine."

"Trine. Deals lightning damage, right? Since I favor that element, I may still have it. I ditched most of my offensive Materia years ago. Let's look. Follow me." I grab the Electro Mag-Rod and my wine, and head toward the stairs; he follows me up with the bottle and his glass.

"Sorry that my digs aren't that great, but it's home." I gesture around the small one-room apartment in which I live. In the corner, I have a small box on a stand. I flip open the lid and reveal the four globes of Materia and a small group of items and accessories: a mastered Lightning Materia, a level one Restore, level three Enemy Skill Materia, and a level one Ramuh summons, alongside a tough ring, a ribbon, and bolt armlet.

"If I have it, it will be in this one," I say, reaching into the box and equipping the Materia. "I guess we'll have to try it out to make sure it is the one you want."

"How have you survived this long without being able to read your Materia?"

"With Bahamut's luck?" I suggest, unequipping the globe. "Here, you check it out then."

He pulls Cerberus from the holster on his hip and the three long barrels make it seem like it goes on forever. He equips and tests the Materia. "Yes, not only Trine, but Magic Breath as well. I don't have either; would you mind if I borrowed this?"

"Nah, it's yours as long as you need it. My fightin' days are over," I say, and then add under my breath, "I hope."

"Ah, if you feel that way, I won't ask you if you'd like to accompany me."

"What? Where?"

"Nanaki and I are planning to go from North Corel toward Cosmo Canyon for another rare Enemy Skill this weekend, but if you're not interested in fighting anymore, we'll find another person for the party."

"I've only been to Cosmo Caynon on business; I'm not sure I'd be welcome," I say, pacing the six feet of space in the apartment. Valentine watches me. "Are you sure you want me as the third in your party?"

"I cleared it with Nanaki. Plus, you're good in a fight," he says.

"Kadaj beat my ass and I was never able to defeat Cloud and his party."

"Nothing to be ashamed of, I couldn't beat Cloud without my Limit Break and then it would still be a close battle."

"How long would we be gone?"

"A week or so, depending."

"A week away from Shera and her drama, huh? Sign me up!"

* * *

A/N: This is a ten chapter story and I will be posting a new chapter every Tuesday. All chapters are already finished, so I hope you'll enjoy this journey with me.


	3. Chapter 3 - Keeping Watch

I stand at the edge of the cliff, smoking a cigarette and watching the night sky for another shooting star.

"You're damn lucky, Nanaki, growin' up in a place like this. I never even saw stars until I started workin for Shin-Ra." Nanaki is close to my feet and Valentine is on the other side of the fire, upwind from me. If I look over my shoulder, I am sure I'll see those intense eyes staring at me, so I continue to search the black expanse of sky.

"Yes, I was blessed," Nanaki purrs. He's lying down, his huge chin on his front paws. As he speaks, the tiny bells and bits of metal braided into his fur tinkles like a wind chime. "But there must have been something good about the place where you grew up? Some happy memories?"

I snort. The wind changes and I stamp out the remains of the cigarette. I think about sitting down, but I have too much energy from today's activities still coursing through my body.

"I've been to Midgar," he continues. "It's not all bad."

"There was a place," I say, allowing the memory to surface. "It was a kid's park in the outskirts of the slums – a totally ordinary place with swings, teeter totters, and a dome for climbing, but it was brand-spankin new. I musta been five or so when it opened, and we went while it was still clean and new, even if I really didn't understand what either of those things were at that point. Shera collected rocks while Karina and I played Soldier with our mother watchin' us. There was a band playin', and vendors were sellin' food straight out of street carts – not that we could afford to buy any – but it was 'great' for the five minutes it lasted."

"What happened?" Nanaki asks.

"Gangs," I say, finally sitting down. I rest against my pack, full from the spoils we've collected on the long walk from North Corel. Tomorrow, I'll trade all the ordinary items for Cosmo Canyon special blend coffee, but tonight they make a lumpy pillow. "Gangs, rovin' beats, disease… if it wasn't one thing in the slums, it was another."

"But you survived," Nanaki say.

"Yup," I say, "So I could do worse things than were done to me and accompany you two on this noble quest for power."

"Is that what you think my purpose is?" Valentine asks; his voice is tired and husky from the smoke.

"Why else work on masterin' a Materia? The only two motivations I can see are money or power; you don't strike me as the kinda guy to worry about Gil."

"You've forgotten knowledge," he says. "I want – need – to know what is possible in this world."

"Agreed," Nanaki chimes in and raises his head. "As long-lived creatures, Vincent and I have too much time on our hands. If we don't seek something, we'll go mad."

"Curiosity killed the over-sized kitty cat, yo," I smirk. "So, it's like a game then, to keep you from getting bored?"

"If you like; I prefer to call it a challenge to satisfy the emptiness inside. We watch our friends grow old. Cloud was just a child when we met him; he'll be thirty this year. The next time I blink, I'll be playing with his grandchildren –"

"You give him too much credit," I snark, but Nanaki ignores me.

"We could abandon our friends and protect ourselves from the heartbreak and pain of a thousand goodbyes, or…"

"Or, we can participate in life. I've tried the former; I prefer the latter," Vincent finishes. The fire crackles, a stick snaps, and the fire shifts downward, sparks flying. No one says anything for a while.

"Well," I say, grabbing up my water bottle and taking a long swig, "I'll volunteer for first watch. I'm shit first thing in the morning, so it's best if I can sleep in as late as possible."

"No need," Vincent says, standing. "I'll keep watch all night. Get your rest; you'll need it for the long trek tomorrow." He disappears from the glow of the fire light.

"Don't be a martyr, Valentine," I call after him. "We can take turns."

"Don't argue, Reno. Vincent doesn't sleep unless he's so tired, he's sure he won't dream. Leave him be and come lie down."

"You can take the Turk out of the city, but ask me to sleep on the open ground, and you might as well ask me to sleep standing up."

"You can use me as a pillow," he offers, "Put your head on my side, right here." He indicates a spot with his muzzle.

"Isn't that kinda creepy?"

"Everyone has slept on me at one point or another. It's normal for me, and I've been told I'm very comfortable."

I scoot over until my head is lined up, then I lean back into his side. I turn slightly, burying my nose in the fiery red fur. I exhale and settle in. "Ok, this isn't so bad," I mumble.

* * *

"I thought we were in a desert," I complain as we walk.

"We are, Reno," Nanaki says, his voice perfectly calm despite the ridiculous situation.

"Then why is it raining, yo?"

"Because sometimes it rains in the desert."

Vincent hasn't said a word in at least a half an hour. I think he likes the misty rain even less than I do, but he doesn't voice his opinions, like I feel I must.

"At least your mohawk isn't affected by water, I must look like a drown rat right about now."

"You look… like…" He can't finish his statement because he is laughing.

"Vincent, how much longer until we get to the Canyon?" I ask.

"Nanaki would know better," he says, still outpacing me so that he has to throw the comment over his shoulder. I must really look ridiculous if he won't even look at me.

"Are you enjoying our banter, Vincent?" Nanaki asks.

He doesn't answer.

* * *

Nanaki borrows clothing from his neighbors that fit me and I jump in the shower right away.

"At least it was hot and wet, instead of cold and wet, right?" I say when I come out of the bathroom. My hair is a complete disaster. It is so wet, I just put on the borrowed sweatpants because any shirt I could wear right now would be soaked through in seconds. Vincent looks up at me and away again very quickly.

"I'll speak to my friends and see if there have been any sightings in the area we can check out tomorrow," Nanaki says.

"Two days without a single sign of a Harpy does not bode well," Vincent replies.

"How the hell don't you have Aqualung, Vincent? Didn't Jenova Life have that as well?" I ask as I claim the bed closest to the window by throwing my wet towel on the end. I use one of Nanaki's combs to get the worst of the tangles out. When it dries, it will pop up again, but right now my hair looks about as sleek as Tseng's.

"Kadaj and his brothers made off with most of Cloud's Materia. Some of it was destroyed, others were lost."

"What a pains in the asses those guys were." I catch a glimpse of myself in the mirror.

"Oh Holy shit, now I know what you though was so funny earlier, Nanaki, and you are so dead," I say, launching myself off the bed and onto his side. We tumble, wrestling on the floor until we roll to a stop at the foot of the bed closest to the door where Vincent sits, one foot on the floor, the other bent up so he can rest his gauntlet arm across it. He stares down at us, one eyebrow raised.

Nanaki lays across me and laughs. He drools on my face and the vibration of his purr tickles across my flesh. "Now that you've seen yourself in the mirror, can you blame me? You look just like your sister."

"Don't compare him to her," Vincent says. I push Nanaki over so that I can sit up because there is something in Vincent's eyes that doesn't make sense… it's not pity, but it might be anger… and I'm not sure who it's aimed at.

"Just how many tattoos do you have, Reno?" Nanaki asks. He's either not caught Vincent's change in mood or has decided to avoid it.

"Um, do you count my face as one or two?"

"One," Vincent answers, and the cloud of emotion disappears.

"Then I have…" I use my fingers to point to parts of my body and I begin counting the ink jobs I have: cheeks, right bicep, inside of left forearm, right shoulder, and left hip, but I hold one back, not willing to reveal everything. "Five."

"Let's see them, tattoos tell a story, and I want to know yours."

"The only one I regret is this one," I say, slapping my hand over the Shin-ra logo on my right bicep. "I feel like there are plenty of times in my life when I could have said no to them. This is one of them."

"My face came first, then the logo. Rude and I got our hip tattoos on the same day. His is Leviathan and mine is Phoenix." I have to push down the waist band of my pants to show the whole thing, but it's a gorgeous bird worth seeing. Its body sits directly on my hip bone and the wings unfurl in both directions. The tail swirls down my leg and the mouth shoots fire toward the light red hair that runs down from my belly button. I glance up at Vincent to make sure he's seen it as well. He notices me looking at him and looks elsewhere.

"My favorite is probably my shoulder, which sucks 'cause I can't see it, but what can I do about that now, right?" I turn so they can see the work there. It's probably the roughest of all of them. It was somethin' I doodled up at work one day when I was bored out of my mind, yo, and I took it to the parlor and they did during my lunch break."

"Is that a Razor Weed?"

"Yup; notice what it is doing?"

"Is it smoking?"

I smirk. "After that was the left forearm. I was out of commission for a while after Sector Seven." I clear my throat. "Cloud broke both bones in my arm, in three places. As a memorial, I had them ink the site." I hold out my arm so that they can read the inscription. It says: "Make Better Choices."

* * *

A/N: If you like my story, please consider favoriting it or drop me a review. This story has 10 total chapters and I'm just finishing up a sequel, which I'll post once I'm finished posting this one. The next chapter will be up next Tuesday! Thanks for reading.


	4. Chapter 4 - Remembrance Day

I whale away at the punching bag, heedless of the pain radiating up my forearms. Against all the training I've received, I forego the tape on my knuckles and strike each blow as if I am flattening out my own smug face. I have no clue how long I've been at it, but I am aware of his colors seeping into my peripheral. Then he speaks, shattering the flow of my attack.

"You're missing the service," he says. His dark monotone is tempting.

I lose my rhythm, pause, and restart. "I RSVP'd in the negative," I reply, going through a new series of punches. "Didn't Rude tell you?"

"Everyone's waiting: Rude, Tseng, Elena –"

"Then they've already told you; I choose to spend Remembrance Day alone," I snarl, throwing one last left hook. I spin around, grabbing the bottle off the counter. I take a swig and then glare at him.

"Assassin's Tears?" he asks, reading the label. "I hadn't realized they still made that."

"They don't. I just know where Old Man Shin-Ra kept his stash. It goes for about 100,000 Gil on the black market. I'm not sharin' it with you, so don't ask."

"I won't, it holds too many memories of my former life. Come, put down your poison and join the memorial service. We owe that much to our fallen comrades."

I don't realize I've moved until the bottle of booze explodes over his right shoulder. "Get out," I growl. "I want to be alone tonight. No one needs to be reminded of what I did; they already hate me enough." My breath is quick and heavy.

"Sins can be forgiven. Cloud taught me that."

"Soldier boy?" I laugh, snatching another bottle from the cabinet. "Good for you, but there are some sins too large to forgive. Just… go away, Valentine, and let me deal with the grief in my own way."

"Lucrecia…" His golden gauntlet flexes into a fist. I give him a second - because this is the first time I've ever heard him speak her name, and for that reason alone, I am curious - but the alcohol and adrenaline make me impatient and brazen.

"She was one woman! You failed to save her and that sin of omission is really sad, Valentine, but I committed a genocide-level atrocity against Sector Seven. With these hands, I made the bomb, I planted it, and I turned it on, knowin' that thousands were gonna to die –"

"She was Sephiroth's mother," he interrupts. "He wrought so much destruction and almost succeeded in killing the entire planet."

"But he didn't, because _you_ stopped him. That's what I don't get!" I laugh, the bitter edge is as sharp as the glass shard of the bottle littering the floor. "Eight people managed to save the entire world, but you couldn't stop one dumb-ass Turk?" It hits me suddenly, the weight of it all. I sag, and just before I hit the floor, he grabs my shoulders and steers me to a chair. I have no tears left, just that hollow ache I've tried so hard to beat out of myself each year on the anniversary of the day I sent the upper plate crashing down on Sector Seven. Yeah, I can blame it on my orders all year long, but that won't stop the nightmares. I slump forward, hiding my hands by cradling the bottle in my lap. Shame overwhelms me as he kneels by my side, his sad eyes searching my face for something.

"It took all of us working together to defeat him; we weren't a team yet when you set the bomb. I was still wallowing in my, then, unforgiven sin." I can almost hear his thoughts; _Yet another sin for which I must atone._

"I'm not your fault, Valentine. Don't take my pain on as well."

"You are… important to me, Reno. Is not a burden shared, a burden halved?"

I snort. "You've had your moments of redemption: Avalanche in the Northern Crater, the evacuation of Midgar, Deepground, the WRO. Whatever you did wrong, Valentine, it's been paid in full, but every time I look at these hands I see the blood of all the people of Sector Seven. They were normal people, tryin' ta make a life for themselves, even in the slums. They were my people, just like me, and I never even questioned my orders."

My eyes begin to mist over and I hold up my shaking hands, admitting the damage I've done to myself over the last few hours. "Every time I go into the new 7th Heaven, or see that brat, Denzel, all I can think of is that I murdered his parents." Blood drips from the open cuts between my knuckles, revealing the stark white bone beneath. The shakes take over my whole body as the blood loss becomes evident.

He stands up and twists the bottle out of my hand; that hurts enough to make me flinch. I look up at him, but his eyes are inspecting my left hand. I try to push him away with my right, but he is so solid it is like pushing against a full body of gold, not just a few pieces of armor. All I manage is to fall out of the chair and stumble away from him.

He fetches the Healing Materia while I am lost in the sight of my blood pooling in the spaces between the wood slats of my floor. He equips and cast the level one spell – the best I'd ever managed for that Materia – and he waits for it to recharge.

"Don't," I whine. "I do this every year, and I'll just have to start all over again once you leave."

"Then I won't leave," he says, basking me with the green glow again. "Tomorrow we'll take this out and level it up. It is ridiculous, how poorly equipped you are." I nod dumbly, but I don't argue.

"Valentine, you're the first person who has…" I can't finish the statement past the lump in my throat.

"Who did what?" he prompts.

"Stayed."


	5. Chapter 5 - A Good Night's Sleep

And he continues to stay. Night after night he's in my apartment, while he spends his days elsewhere, doing things that do not involve or concern me, but then again, in the daylight, it is easier to pretend I don't hate myself.

He is always there. His cape thrown over the back of the couch, he sits most nights reading, while I work on tinkering projects. He brings takeout over, more often than not, and we chat about what we've done that day.

But on other nights – when he's away on business – like tonight, the color red disappears from my mind completely. The phone rings, and the little red light brings me back to reality.

"Miss me already, Valentine?" I answer without looking at the caller ID, because he's the only one who calls me after midnight.

"Did I leave my copy of The History of Command Materia in your apartment?" he asks, ignoring me.

"Um, maybe, let me look." I check the small pile of books that have appeared in my home over the last few days, but it isn't there. I balance the phone between my shoulder and ear as I search between the couch cushions.

"An unlabeled green Materia, loose bullets – that doesn't seem safe – a pen, a headband, but no book. Valentine, you've got to stop litterin' my home; either that or we need a bigger place."

He chuckles.

"I made you laugh." I pull a kitchen chair away from the table and spin it around before straddling it backward and resting my elbows on the back of the chair.

"You did; that's a rare thing. Be proud of your accomplishment.

"Will you give me a prize?"

"Depends on what you want. They have decent coffee here in Costa del Sol. I could bring some back for you."

"I'll gladly pay you back for coffee, but for my prize, I want you to teach me to shoot."

"You were a Turk; there's no way you didn't do basic firearms' training."

"Of course I did, but I wasn't very good. I was still shy about guns because of my sister, so I passed training and picked the Eletrco-Mag Rod as my primary weapon. You make shootin' look…" I want to say sexy, but after the joke about living together, I figure another bit of flirting would be too much, too soon.

"Finish your thought, Reno. I can't read minds."

"You make it look natural. Firearms are dangerous, I totally get that, but you make me want to be better than passing."

He is quiet for a while on the other end, even his respiration is still. "I have an old Quicksilver that would be good for training. I'll retrieve it on my way back."

"Thanks, Valentine."

"Reno," he sighs, "call me Vincent."

* * *

It's raining when I land the helicopter at the Aeroport. I run through a mental checklist as I wait for the rotors to slow to a stop. Rude slides out of his side and I take off my crumpled blue blazer and lay it across the back of the pilot's seat. Even though it is a vestige of another time, I can't seem to throw it away. Sometimes up in the air, as the clouds thin out, I can almost forget about the bad times, and focus solely on the cold and the task in front of me.

"Ugh, I'm going to get some drops in my eyes and sleep for days. Gaia! I can't believe I left my goggles in Mideel!"

"Callie will send them," Rude says, for the four hundredth time.

"I know, I know, but there was too much glare to be flyin' without them, and now I feel like I have all the sand in the desert in my fuckin' eyes after staring into that white sky all day."

I wave to Cid Highwind as we pass through the terminal, forgetting that he hates me – whether he wants to or not – but he tips his cigarette at me in acknowledgement, before going back to pretending that he hasn't seen me.

"It was good to see your sister again," I say, changing the subject.

"Always is, just wish you two had made it work."

"We gave it six months, but in the end we realized we were only stayin' together for your sake. We were ok as a couple, but we needed different things."

"Still…," he says.

"And if we had suffered each other, she wouldn't have met Carver, gotten married, and given you a cute little nephew."

"He's pretty awesome, but you could have –"

"No, we wouldn't have. My line ends with me."

"Shera –"

"Thankfully, her kids will be Highwinds."

* * *

"Will it bother your beauty rest if I work on my truck in the shop today?" Rude asks as I put the key in the lock that heads upstairs to my apartment.

"No, I can sleep through a riot."

"You did sleep through a riot, once," he grimaces.

"See, it'll be fine then. If I wake up before the morning, I'll come down and join you," I say, spinning away from him and snatching the note wedged between the door and the jam. It has my name written across it in Vincent's handwriting, and I pocket it before Rude can see it.

"Don't forget Turk Tuesdays," he reminds me. "We're going to have Costan food – tacos, I think."

"Elena's cooking?"

"Yes."

"Excellent! I think I'll invite Valentine."

"Why him?"

"He's a Turk, man, why else?"

"You've been spending a lot of time together. Is there something going on between the two of you?"

"I'll let you know if I figure that out. Right now, all I can say is that we're comfortable around each other. That's enough."

"I'm not sure if I should fear for your safety, or congratulate you on finding the only other person in this world with as much dysfunction as you."

"Neither for right now," I smirk, "but in my life things are always changing. You'll let Elena know we're having one more for dinner, right? I know I'll forget."

"Yes, Reno," he groans, leaving me at the bottom of the stairs while he goes into the shop.

Upstairs, there are scratches around the lock as I put my key into it, but both the bolts are locked, so instead of calling Rude up for backup, I let myself in with the Electro-Mag Rod in hand. My glance sweeps over the whole apartment, and I relax when I see Vincent sprawled out on my bed. I'm embarrassed, but I'm so glad he's here that I decide to make some noise to wake him up.

"Hi, Honey, I'm home," I sing out while dropping my pack on the floor. His eyes flash open and his hand tightens on Cerberus' grip, but then relaxes as his eyes drift shut again.

"Well, so much for sleepin' in my own bed," I mutter as I pull off my boots and spread out on the couch. As I do, I hear the crumple of paper in my pocket.

 _Reno, I'm exhausted, so I let myself in. I'll apologize when I am awake. Be careful if I'm asleep when you return – I'm dangerous when woken suddenly. V_

 _P.S. I unloaded Cerberus just in case. V_

 _P.S.S It would be best if you do not touch me – V._

The three editions of the message make me laugh as I yawn and roll over on one side.

* * *

When I wake a few hours later, he is still out cold in the same position – face down with one leg on the bed, the other off – with Cerberus clutched in one hand, the barrels pointed toward the floor.

I fill the coffee pot and look through the pantry for dinner. Tofu, greens, a little soy sauce, mushrooms, and ginger go into the wok. I put a handful of spring rolls in the toaster oven, and start the rice cooker chugging on the counter. I pop a bottle of Nibelheim Hard Apple Cider to keep me company, and when all that activity fails to wake him up, I put the radio on very low and listen to the Chocobo Races at the Golden Saucer.

I plate the rice, check on the sizzling spring rolls, and take the wok off the stove as I wait for the coffee pot to catch up to me. When I turn to find a mug, Vincent is sitting up, sort of, both legs over the side of the bed, but his hands are on his knees, and his head droops down with his hair hanging over his face. His cape and headband are on the floor, and he doesn't seem to notice. I can't see Cerberus.

"You hungry?" I ask, turning my back to the stove.

His head snaps up and it takes a moment for his eyes to focus. "Reno?"

"In the flesh, yo. I made stir-fry, if you're hungry you can join me."

"Hungry, yes, give me a moment."

"Take all the time you need." I dish out a second helping of rice, and split the spring rolls evenly as I try not to watch Vincent stagger into the bathroom. For a long time, the only sound I hear from in there is the water in the sink. I top the two servings of rice with stir-fry, then add a bit more sauce to each plate.

Vincent comes out of the bathroom, pulling his hair back with one of my elastic bands. "You don't mind, right?"

"Course not," I say, noting his face is still wet and that his feet are bare. His feet are fascinating with their long toes, and a huge scar that runs over the top of the left one. "You're limping," I accuse. "What's wrong?"

"Nothing, I always do without the sabatons. Hojo removed one of my tendons to lame me."

"That bastard! Can we Revive him so I can shove my Electro-Mag Rod up his ass?"

"Let the dead stay dead," he says, and sits down at the table where I put a plate in front of him. "And your trip?"

"Good. Rude's sister is always good for a few laughs. It was relaxing to get away from the drama for a few days, but I'm glad to be back."

"I'm sorry for using your bed without permission. I should have called, but…"

"It's fine. You're always welcome, Vincent. My places is yours, anytime you need it."

"Thank you, for that and for the food."

"Speakin' of food, you're joinin' me for Turk Tuesday at Tseng and Elena's. She's makin' tacos this week!"

* * *

After dinner, Vincent offers to wash the dishes and I let him, hoping I'll see him take off the gauntlet for the first time, but I'm disappointed when he doesn't. I tidy up the rest of the room, hanging up his cape and straightening the rumpled covers on the bed. I try to lift his sabatons, but they weight more than I do.

"Gaia, Vincent, how in the world do you move in these things?" I can barely managed to nudge the one I'm focused on. He saunters over and picks the pair up in one hand and puts them over to the side.

"Enhanced strength," he says, "another one of Hojo's gifts."

"At least that one is useful. I'm sure I've got some jar lids that need opening," I tease.

"Pass me Cerberus," he says, pointing at the gun on the side table. It is also incredibly heavy, and I have to use two hands to prevent it from falling on my foot. In his hands, it looked like a toy. He breaks it open, loads, and flicks it closed in about two seconds. He lays it on the table.

"I got the book you wanted," I say, turning away to hide my erection. I rifle through my pack from the weekend, pretending it isn't right on top so that I can regain some dignity.

Still barefoot, he curls up on one end of the couch. I adjust myself, turn, and hand him the book. Instead of opening it, he lets his hand linger over the cover, as if his fingers could read something off the leather.

"Seems wasteful to use animal hide on a book," I say, sitting of the other end of the couch, pulling my feet up so they are between us.

"It's old-fashioned, like me," he says, bringing the book to his face and inhaling the scent of it. "Leather, paper, glue, and your cologne. What's it called?"

"Ramuh's Lightning."

"It suits you."

"Thank you."

He opens the cover, his long fingers sweep back the first page, revealing the surprise inside. "The author was doing a signing." I shrug like it is no big deal that I waited for two and a half hours for the signature and paid 400 gil.

"Thank you, Reno, this makes it very special to me. Do you dislike reading, or is it simply difficult for you?"

"Tiring, mostly," I answer, sliding down so that my head rests on the arm of the couch. My toes touch his leg. "It hurts my eyes."

"Maybe you need glasses."

"I don't know, but really if it isn't a tech manual or a recipe, I don't worry about it most of the time. So, what's this book about anyway?"

"It is a murder mystery set in the Golden Saucer. A park guest is murdered in an empty cable car and the employees must band together with a small group of guests to suss out the criminal before he does away with them."

"That sounds exciting. I didn't know you read mysteries."

"I have eclectic tastes."

He turns past the inscription and clears his throat. "I was working the graveyard shift at the top of the cable car ramp, when the doors opened, and Mr. Reyes toppled onto the platform, dead…" As he reads, he holds the book in his gauntleted hand and flips pages with the other when he reaches the end of each. Between pages, he rests his hand on my left foot, drawing his fingers across my skin.

"… and with that, the lights went out." He closes the book and looks at me. "Chapter two tomorrow?"

"Yes, please," I say, trying to adjust my feet so that his hand will rest on the right one as well.


	6. Chapter 6 - Limit Breaks

Nanaki accompanies us to the desert around North Corel where we've decided to start my training. He claims it is so he can keep the area clear of beasts as we focus on targets, but since he spends the whole walk regaling me with shooting anecdotes, I suspect that's just his cover story.

On the rock in front of us are three badly damaged cans. Vincent has already destroyed the first set and now it is my turn to show him what I've got with his old Quicksilver. It's just the basic-issue handgun every Shin-Ra employee is assigned. It doesn't have three barrels or a dangling charm. It should be easy, but as soon as the oh-so-familiar weapon is in my hand, my palms begin to sweat.

"That charm looks new," Nanaki says to Vincent.

"It is, I lost the first in the battle against Deepground."

"Ah, I thought so, this one looks shinier."

"So who do you pretend you're shootin' when you practice?" I quip, trying to postpone the moment. I don't want them to know how much I hate this weakness in me.

"Hojo, every time," Vincent says, and I regret asking. He gestures for me to begin.

My memory feels like a sieve as I try to remember all the things that Director Veld taught me. I raise the gun, two-handed, and line up the sight. I squeeze the trigger. I've forgotten how odd the recoil feels and I almost drop the gun. It is only after that second of disconnection that I realize the bullet has pinged off the rock near the can, but has not hit it.

Vincent walks over and inspects the chalky mark against the rock. "You didn't take into account the recoil."

"No, I didn't."

"Try again and focus on the end result."

This time I make sure to hold steady through the entire shot and I knock the can flying.

"Better. How long has it been since you've fired a gun?"

"Eight years, maybe ten."

"Your form is sloppy, but that's correctable. Aim again, but do not fire." He pushes my shoulders forward and uses one finger to lift my chin. He nudges my front leg further out and forward. His hands fall to my waist and he squares my hips to the target. In that position, I wait for command to fire. Instead he slips his arms around me.

"See how my elbows are? Make yours look the same." He speaks directly into my ear. I match his position. "When the recoil comes, move forward into it. You're a natural, Reno, you've got this"

Only moving my eyes, I search for Nanaki. He's sort of smiling at me. "That looks much better, Reno. I bet you'll kill that evil can this time."

Instead of moving away from me, Vincent keeps his hold on my wrists and issues the order to fire. The recoil is less traumatic with his help and we hardly move at all. The shot goes straight through the center of the can. Vincent lets me go and I lose the form immediately.

"Shake it off, walk around a bit, and see if you can do it on your own."

* * *

By lunch time there isn't a single piece of can left that is big enough to be a real target. Vincent shows off some fancy moves by knocking small rocks out of the air as I toss them. Nanaki hasn't had to fight off a single beast all morning, and is half-asleep in the sun as I decide to push my luck a little more.

"Can I try Cerberus, just once?"

"It's almost 2000 percent heavier than a Quicksilver, Reno. The recoil would break your wrist."

"Oh," I say, thinking about how stupid the request was.

"We'll work you up to over the next few months."

I grin.

* * *

On the way back into town, I am super drunk and somehow manage to trip over a Tonberry. Its little lantern falls to the ground and shatters.

"Oh, little dude, I'm so sorry," I say, dusting the thing off and putting it back on his feet. It stabs out at me with its butcher knife, slashing into my bicep. I hit my Limit Break, and without thinking about it, I attack with Neo Turk Light. It rolls over his back like it was nothing. It stabs again, but misses. Cerberus answers, knocking it away.

I scramble back, sobering up quickly as I bleed out. My Electro Mag-Rod is in hand in an instant, crackling ready to be shoved where the sun don't shine. Nanaki roars, summoning a massive beam of plasma that hits the thing dead on. It staggers a bit, but continues to advance slowly, looking straight at me. I blink and it stabs me in the foot.

"Holy Jenova," I scream.

"Get back," Nanaki yells, throwing himself in front of me.

A roar splits the quiet desert; I throw my hands over my ears. Even though I am bent double by the pain and the noise, I manage to look up in time to see a great purple and red beast charge across the flat terrain. The little Tonberry puts up a good fight, managing to slash at its attacker.

"That's…"

"Galian Beast, yes. This is Vincent's weakest Limit Break. Stay clear." I can't look away, even though I should be dealing with my wounds. It spits Flare into the air around the target, then shears through the Tonberry like it's made of tissue paper. There is little bits of green flesh everywhere. The Beast roars and paws that ground looking for its next victim.

"He shot Flare out of his mouth, yo!" I shout. "That would be fuckin' awesome if hadn't just pissed my pants." Galian Beast keeps its back to us, but turns enough so that I can see the profile of its face. Vincent's eyes are still visible. It looks at me, and behind all that rage, I see Vincent's sadness.

"It's over, Vincent, come on back to us. I need your Healing Material. You know mine's still weak shit." He shudders, and I am blinded by a bright white light. When my eyes clear, Vincent is standing before me, reaching out with the spell.


	7. Chapter 7 - Turk Tuesdays

Jade opens the door when I knock and grins at me. "Look Uncle Reno," she says and spreads her lips with her fingers. "I lost my two front teeth."

"Oh wow! I bet the Faerie will bring you a new tooth brush!"

"I already got one, it has Mr. Moogle on it!"

"Nice!" She holds up her hand and I finish the high-five. She smiles at Vincent.

"This is Tseng and Elena's daughter, Jade. Jade meet Vincent Valentine."

"Nice to meet you, Mr. Valentine."

I hear the crack of a pool ball from inside; Rude is already here. "You gonna let us in? Or do we have to stand outside all night?"

"You can't eat tacos on the porch, they're too messy. You'd better come in," she says, stepping aside.

* * *

I've _never_ lost a game of pool before in my life, but because of Vincent, I can't concentrate worth a shit. He's sitting in Tseng's house wearing a Gaia-be-damned black t-shirt with his regular armor and leather pants and I can't stop looking at him. The fact that his hair is tied back in an elastic band he's stolen from my bathroom doesn't help. He runs the table with an impeccable sniper's eye against Rude, who swears repeatedly under his breath at me. _"Fuckin' Reno, had to bring a shark to Turk Tuesdays."_

I am saved when Elena brings out a large tray of food and everyone is drawn to it like a magnet. Instead of doing the hard work for us, she's placed each ingredient in its own bowl. There are meats and tofu, vegetables and rice, cheeses and sour cream, avocados and little green bits I can't name. The food saves me from drooling over Vincent. Elena gives us each four soft tortillas to start with. Jade goes first, and then everyone reaches for food, except for Vincent.

"What's wrong, Valentine?" Rude asks.

"I'm observing, I've never had tacos before. I want to see what everyone else chooses first."

"... Never?" Rude asks, slipping his sunglasses down his nose.

"It's easy, Valentine. Just put what you like in the tortilla, fold it, and eat it with your hands," Elena explains while making one. Vincent chooses tofu, cheese, avocado and vegetables – which is almost identical to mine. Before he can fold it, I plop a spoonful of sour cream on top. He raises an eyebrow.

"Trust me, it's better this way."

"I didn't see you put that in yours."

"I put it in first, it helps hold the whole thing together better."

"There's plenty of meat to share, Valentine, don't be shy. Or are you a vegetarian?" Elena asks.

"I don't eat meat anymore in order to honor life."

"Neither does Reno," Rude says grinning, "but that's because he's a cheap bastard.

I spit a block of tofu at his head. It hits his glasses and falls into his drink. "Not everyone had a privileged upbringin' in Mideel, and could afford things like meat."

"Your aim's improved, Reno," Vincent says, sliding us away from my ugly comments.

"Reno's lucky if he can hit the bowl when he shits," Rude taunts.

"Ha, ha," I say, in a cold unemotional tone

"Aw, did I hurt your feelings in front of Valentine?"

"Why are you all so obsessed with calling me by my last name?"

I look at Rude, who looks at Elena, who in turn, looks to Tseng. He groans. "It's because none of us have last names; it's novel," he admits.

"You don't use your mother's name?" Vincent is confused.

By the tight look around his eyes, I can tell Tseng has been dreading this conversation all night; he exhales. "Her family made it quite clear that if I _dared_ besmirch the family name they'd kill me and all of mine."

"What has happened to the Wutai I knew?" Vincent shakes his head. "That would have been unheard of when I was a boy. I'm sorry you've experience such bigotry."

"You mean it's gotten worse over time instead of better?" Elena asks.

"Before the war, this would not have happened," Vincent recounts, his eyes lost in the past. "I'd already started working for Shin-ra when I was summoned to Wutai for a family meeting. My mother's sister's daughter – or my niece – was raped by an infantry man, but she opted to keep the baby. The family matriarch told us that Misaki's baby was our kin, and we should act accordingly. As a young hot-head, I was annoyed I had to waste my vacation time to hear something I would have done without being told –"

"Your niece's full name, what was it?" Tseng askes, his taco forgotten.

"Misaki Fukuda."

"That was my mother's name."

I stop eating, mid-bite, Rude clears his throat, and Elena puts her hand on Tseng's arm. Vincent and Tseng can't look away from each other. I swallow a lump of avocado, put my taco down, and sit on my hands so I won't do anything stupid.

"Tell me everything," Vincent says, his voice an incomprehensible monotone.

"Great-grandmother died when I was five. An uncle took over the family and drove us out, but not before he branded me."

Vincent abruptly slides back from the table and I can see fire reflected in his eyes. I go for my Electro-Mag Rod, but I realize it is back at the pool table. All I have is a plastic fork that'll do me no good. Vincent's lowers his head and both of his hands flex.

"My apologies," he coughs, and his head pops up. "It is unwise of me to feel this furious after using my Limit Break so recently; it always multiplies my stronger emotions to its own end."

"I've learned that being angry doesn't help," Tseng says, unaware of how close we came to being devoured.

"True." Vincent's smile is unnerving, and I feel sweat drip down the back of my neck; the Beast isn't completely subdued yet. "Reno, are you free tomorrow?"

"I was going to help Rude with his truck."

"Rude, I need to borrow your partner."

"Why do you need me, Vincent?"

"I need a lift to Wutai."

"Ok." I drag the word out.

"They won't listen to you," Tseng says. "They didn't listen to my mother."

"I have no intention of speaking to them. I'm simply going to update my family register. I will list you and Jade as my heirs. You may officially begin using the name Valentine."

Tseng's blinks are like some sort of Morse Code, they are so oddly irregular and quick.

"That's so fuckin' cool," I say and everyone laughs, but Tseng.

"That's not nec –"

"It is. Unless you don't wish to acknowledge me."

"No… I,… of course I do, but associating with me will bring you nothing but shame."

Vincent shakes his head and waves off the protest. He looks less murderous now that he has said his peace and made the decision.

"Tseng Valentine," I say. "Elena Valentine. Jade Valentine."

"Not as alliterative as my name, but they will do nicely."


	8. Chapter 8 - Tenuous

A/N: I apologize for not having this chapter up on Tuesday, like normal, but I have bronchitis and slept through most of yesterday. I hope the contents of this chapter makes it up to you.

* * *

"Why are we wasting time, Vincent? I won't live forever, and if you keep dragging those large feet of yours around, we'll never get any traction?"

"Colorful, Reno, but that does not change the fact that one of the three of us will have to be attacked by a Pollensalta in order to absorb the Angel Whisper Enemy Skill," he counters.

"I'll volunteer as long as we can get off this damn cliff and into the cave. The sooner we're done, the better, I just want to get back to the Inn and warm up. This jacket just ain't doing any good. I feel like my organs are frozen. Gaia knows if I'll ever be able to piss again, and I'm not even gonna start in about how hard it is to breathe up here."

"I agree, Vincent, my pads are turning blue. But I think I should be the one to take the risk," Nanaki says.

"No, I'll do it, and I refuse to brook any more argument," Vincent decides. "This is my party, my quest. One hundred years for Reno or five-hundred for you, neither matters as I will outlast you both. Here take my ribbon. I can't have a protection accessory against the spell we need."

"Um, your... friends?"

"Won't be a problem. I'm nowhere near my Limit Break." I let them argue because at least we are moving into the cave.

* * *

Vincent almost looks smug as I tie the ribbon back around his right forearm.

"How many more do we need up here? I hate cold weather, yo."

"Two more. The first time we came through, Cloud was equipped and we defeated a Dark Dragon for Dragon Force. I still need the Parasite which has L5 Death, and the Dragon Zombie, with both Shadow Flare and Pandora's Box."

"These are some crazy powerful creatures up here. You should have brought Cloud with you."

"He has bad memories of this area."

"Oh, yeah, duh, I'm brilliant, ain't I? So, where did Nanaki go?"

"He ran into someone he knows. He'll join us again in the morning."

"Cool, I don't think I've ever run into someone who was happy to see me."

"And everyone I know either fought with me during one of the recent campaigns or, since I just turned sixty-five, most of those I knew before are long dead."

"Sixty-five? You're an old man, Vincent, but you still look twenty."

"And the cold doesn't do me any favors," he says, bending over to remove the gold sabatons. I lay the back of my hand against one, and the cold radiates pain up my arm as if I've been burned.

"Shit, take the gauntlet off as well. That'll help a lot."

"That's not easy. Hojo did many things to me, some of which I don't want to admit."

"I've never seen you take it off."

"I prefer to leave it on."

"Then at least come sit by the fire and warm up." He limps to the fire and sits next to me with his left arm mere inches from the flames.

"It's always one extreme or another with you."

He unbuttons the top of his shirt and cracks his neck. It is suddenly too hot to sit there, and I take off my socks and go into the bathroom. They are still wet and I need some place to hang them, but his cloak is spread out over the shower. I hang the dripping wet, and smelly socks, from the towel rack and then wash my hands.

My face is bright pink from exposure, and there is still soot in my hair from the Pollensalta's fire spell. I scrub what I can off, but without a shower, there is no real hope. I'll have to wait until the morning when the cloak is dry. It will take a miracle, but I can survive another day or two of this cold.

"Do you know of any way to waterproof boots?" I ask from the open door.

"In the morning, I'll buy you snow boots and a proper jacket. I'd feel very bad if the cold killed you."

"But not if a monster got me?" He rolls his eyes. It is a simple gesture that I've never seen before from him, and somehow it feels intimate, as if he's sharing a secret with me. I grab a towel as I leave the bathroom and walk around behind him. I drape the towel over his shoulders, and drop to my knees. I rub his hair in a gentle motion, causing him to curl back into me, scrunching down to make it easier for me to reach his scalp.

"Damn, you've got a lot of hair," I whistle; he laughs.

"Your ponytail is longer."

"But yours is thicker."

"Is this a competition? It is my Wutai heritage."

"It's beautiful. Hell, you're beautiful." His spine tenses for a second, but then he pushes back into me a little further. It's getting harder to hide my growing erection.

"Thank you, it pleases me to hear that. I haven't felt attractive in a long time."

"Since Lucrecia?" Lost in thought of being jealous of a dead woman, I stop rubbing his hair. He nudges me until I start again.

"She made me feel desirable, even if it was only a deception."

"What do you mean?"

"She blamed herself for my father's death –"

"That sounds familiar."

"Alternatively hot and cold with me, I thought she had loved me, but it was all guilt. Hojo killed me, and she helped rebuild me, again, motivated by guilt. If Sephiroth had been mine instead of his, I have no doubt she would have continued the experimentation. She was the one who merged me with Chaos and infused the ProtoMateria. Without her interference, Hojo would have failed, and I would be at peace in the Lifestream."

"In the Lifestream you would have met her again. Is that what you want? To be reunited with her?"

"Don't put words in my mouth. Ours was a one-sided love; nothing could have changed that."

"Your hair's dry."

"That's a shame. Your hands felt good. No one has touched me like that before."

"I don't have to stop touching you…" I say, my voice disappearing into a whisper.

He turns and looks at me as my face flushes as red as my tattoos. "What prompted these?" he asks, tracing his warm, elegant fingers against my left cheek.

"A drunken dare," I chuckle. "But when I sobered up, I decided I liked them, good thing, huh? They make me feel – "

"Fierce," he hisses. His hand continues over the side of my face where he curls his fingers around a loose strand of hair that's escaped the ponytail.

"You have proven yourself very brave, Reno."

"I'm feeling a little tenuous right now, though. I'm not so sure of myself."

"Are you sure of me?" His eyes blink languidly, his lips open, and his tongue wets them.

"Yes," I whisper. He leans forward, and at the same time pulls me to him with his hand, now in my hair. His kiss is so warm I shudder.

"Good or too much?" he asks.

"Good and terrifying," I say as my heart bangs against my ribs.

"That means you are aware of how dangerous I am. One word from you, and I will stop."

"Stop? Not necessary," I chuckle, "But, I'm a little rusty at this, so maybe you'll need to pause or slow down. Ok?"

"Very much so."

* * *

The scars covers ninety percent of his chest, jagged edges scourge his skin in every direction. It's white-gray in comparison to his pale skin, and at first I don't even notice it because it is so large there is almost nothing but the scar.

"How did this –?"

"The first wound was from a SPAS, then I had the ProtoMateria ripped from my chest by the crazed Tsviet, Rosso the Crimson. But that's not the worst of it," he answers. His face has lost all emotion, and I know that whatever he's going to show me next will be a game changer.

He slips his right arm out of the black shirt and peals it away from his left, revealing the shoulder, even though the gauntlet is still in place. I blink, waiting for something horrendous, and I'm not disappointed. The scars on his back are smaller, but they match the entrance wound perfectly.

"How the hell are you still alive?" I ask, my hand tracing the outline of the exit wound.

"Not my back, Reno, look at my arm," he sighs. Somehow, I've overlooked the worst of it, and now that he calls my attention to it, the black leather I assumed was part of the gauntlet is all I can see.

"I don't want to ever touch you with this…"

But he doesn't stop me when I reach out and touch his shoulder. The black skin is hotter than the surrounding white and it is a bit tougher, like well-cared for leather, but otherwise the only thing that concerns me are the network of uneven and ragged scars. This arm looks like it was shoved into place after the original was torn roughly away.

"Do you have feeling in it?" I ask, I push one finger deeper, attempting to see what color it will change with a restriction of blood. There is no change.

"Yes, and stop poking me. No one likes to be poked, Reno," he says gruffly.

"Not true," I tease. "In fact I'm kind hopin' you'll poke me real soon, yo." I chuckle, falling back on the pillows. I give him my best bedroom eyes.

"You don't have to put on a show with me. You're not a prize or a sacrifice, just be you. That was enough to seduce me all along."

I want to smirk and say something clever or sarcastic to deny that what he's just said has pierced me clean through, but my mouth falls open and I can't think of anything. It doesn't matter though, his hand clutches at mine, his face is tense, and he looks away from me, back toward the fire. "I need to know that you're ok with all of this." He gestures carelessly to the ruins of his chest and the arm."

"I may play it up for effect, but I'm not that superficial. Give me some credit."

"Thank you."

"Not a problem, but since we're confessing our secrets, you should know about the tattoo I held back the other day."

"You don't have to -"

"You're going to see it tonight, one way or another. I'd rather it wasn't a shock."

"Alright, show me."

I roll over onto my stomach and lower the back of my pants, exposing the few inches right above my ass, and I bury my face in the pillow to hide my shame. I've never seen it clearly, just in a blurry photograph Rufus took of it to gloat, but I know what it says there.

"Property of Rufus Shinra," Vincent reads out loud. He reaches out and traces some part of the tattoo with his fingertips. I bite the inside of my mouth, willing the tears to be about something other than - "You are no one's property, Reno, and you never were. How did this happen? I can't imagine you allowing this."

He pulls my waistband back up and urges me to turn over. He shakes his head slightly at my tears, then brushes them from my cheeks.

"He drugged me one night," I say, shrugging.

"I will never treat you like property, this I swear," he says, leaning down to kiss me again.

* * *

I'd like to say we lasted all night in a frenzy of passion, but I learn honesty inside Vincent's embrace. In that precious consummation, he teaches me that everything I'd assumed about sex is a fallacy. He doesn't require my obedience, humiliation, and pain, but my participation and pleasure. There is nothing shameful or tawdry about what we do, in fact all the lewd noises I had rehearsed a thousand times disappeared from my mouth as a rush of good feelings crashes around me.

"What's so funny?" he asks. There's no accusation in the question, and that helps me control the laughter that's been bubbling out of my chest for the last few seconds.

"I was just thinkin' if that's what sex is really like, then this was my first time."

He hums against my hair, which is loose and getting everywhere, but he seems to enjoy playing with it. I look up and backward at the headboard and the four long gouges in the wood that match the shape of Vincent's claw.

"I guess we're gonna have to pay for that damage."

"Since when do Turks worry about things like that?"

"You're not just a Turk. Your one of the good guys, a hero of the Jenova War."

"I'll leave a big tip when we check out."

"We should shower and clean up this mess before Nanaki comes back."

"It won't help. With his sense of smell, he probably knew this was coming before we did."

I smell my armpit. "Ugh, can you imagine how bad we stink to him?"

"Besides we don't have to hide that we are together from anyone. I'd prefer if we didn't." I relax into his shoulder, and imagine telling Rude. He won't be surprised.

"Yeah, I'd like that, too. We're gonna need a big bed when we get back home."

"I don't sleep much."

"Sleep? Who's talking about sleep? I want to fuck, alot."

He chuckles. "There's no room in your apartment."

"We could always clean out the storage room. It's big enough for a bed. Will you help me clear it out?"

"I'm ignorant of the things necessary for your work."

"It doesn't matter, I'm such a pack rat after having nothing as a kid that I just need someone to ask me the hard questions."

"Such as?"

"What is this? And what can you use it for? If I can't answer, then it goes in the dumpster."

"I can do that."

I yawn. "Do you mind if I fall asleep on you?"

"Not at all."

* * *

A great bristled tongue licks my arm and wakes me up. The clock says it is 7:03 am. I groan and look up into Nanaki's grinning face. Vincent's arm flexes around me, drawing me tighter against his chest. He breathes like he's still asleep.

"Good morning, furball," I quip. "You're a little early."

"Well, I didn't want to miss this," he jokes, "but really, Reno you guys are so slow, I thought you'd never get it together."

"We both had things to unlearn, give us a break."

"Was it everything you'd hoped it would be?"

"I didn't know it could be anythin' else, so it was... pretty special."

"Good, now wake him up so we can go get breakfast; I'm starving."

"I'm awake, Nanaki," Vincent growls into my neck. "Feel blessed that I don't know where Cerberus is right now."

Nanaki chuckles, but in the quiet strength I feel in Vincent's body language, I know it is not a joke.


	9. Chapter 9 - Gone Fishing

I have everything done and arranged a little bit earlier than I expected, and I come through the door into the apartment brimming with excitement. It's a huge coup that I was able to get reservations tomorrow night at the newest restaurant in town, but all of that tumbles away as I see Vincent in our bedroom shoving things into his traveling pack.

"Um, hello," I say, my feet rooted to the ground.

"Good, you're back early. I'm glad you returned before I had to leave. I'm headed to the Mythril Mines."

"For the Midgar Zolom? Give me a second." I cross the room and grab my gear. It's still packed from our last trip. "Where will we meet Nanaki?" It's not what I planned for tomorrow – I can cancel the reservations, maybe try to reschedule for later – but spending it with the two of them will be better than any of my last birthdays.

"He won't. This isn't our party. Cloud called in a favor."

I drop my pack. "Oh, so wait –"

"Cloud needs me to watch his back as he trains Denzel. He's turning fifteen in a few weeks and wants to join the WRO, but Reeves will not allow it until the boy has some basic skills."

"So, no Nanaki."

"No."

"Oh, well, not includin' him isn't the same as leavin' me out. It's not like your fuckin' him."

He stares at me, as if what I said is something so repellent. I squirm under that look, but then his features soften.

"What's wrong?"

"Nothing," I say. "I made plans without lettin' you know 'cause I wasn't sure I could get it done, but well…."

"Is it something time-sensitive? Or can we reschedule once I'm back – we'll only be gone for a few days – four tops."

"Don't worry about it; it was just a flight of fancy."

"I can tell Cloud –"

"No," I sigh, and force a casual smile on my face. "You gave your word to Cloud and hell, the Turks go fishin' in Costa del Sol so often we'll find another time to go soon."

"You are a horrible liar, Reno," he says, "but whatever this is really about, are you truly ok with me going?" He steps up to me and strokes my hair.

"Yes," I say, dropping my head to his chest. "Hurry up and go, so you can come back soon, then we'll compare our tans when we are together again."

"Do you want to accompany me to the Aeroport?"

"Nah, I'm too far into asshole-mode right now. I'd say somethin' nasty to Cloud that I'd regret later."

"At least you understand your limitations."

* * *

The beach is pristine and quiet in the middle of the week. All I hear is the surge of waves and Jade's giggles as she and Elena play in the sand. Tseng is stretched out asleep in the chair next to me. It is embarrassing how much comfort it is to have him there – he looks enough like Vincent to give me some piece of mind, when I actually feel none. To my left, Rude works out, lifting weights.

I wander off to the bar and order another Long Island Ice Tea, hoping that the alcohol will make me less fidgety.

* * *

"Hey, Partner," Rude calls, snapping my mind out of the elaborate fantasy I've been entertaining.

"Um?"

"My impressive physique, you love it, I know, 'cause it must be causing your beach wood." He flexes two or three poses and then ends by pointing at the lines of my visible erection straining my shorts.

"Very flashy," I tease. He doubles over laughing. "Be careful, big guy, laugh too hard and you'll get a hernia."

He opens and closes his mouth in a quick succession of false starts, reminding me of the fish we caught for last night's dinner. He walks away when he realizes he is far too late for a good comeback.

"You're not yourself, Reno; you let Rude off easy. What's the matter?" Tseng says. His eyes are covered with a damp washcloth, but he doesn't need all his sense to tell I'm off. I'm practically radiating unease.

"Everythin' and nothin', I guess."

"Vincent?"

"I'm not some teenage girl," I quip.

"Reno!" Elena chastises.

"Yes, ma, I'm sorry ma."

"I don't like it when you say things like that in front of Jade," she continues, ignoring my sass.

"I know, my bad."

"Where is he? Why didn't you invite him?" Tseng sits forward, groaning. There's an old burn on his shoulder where he crossed paths with Genesis, and the scar across his abdomen ripples, reminding me of the day we almost lost him.

"He had other obligations, but if he hadn't, I _had_ plans."

"Dinner and a play, plans? Because there is a showing of Loveless at the community theatre tonight if you just want some culture. Or something of a more intimate nature?" Tseng teases.

Rude wanders back over, while Elena works at the picnic basket at my feet. Jade sits on the end of his chair. I pull my sunglasses down so I can get a better look at him. "What are you implying, Boss?" I ask, nodding toward his kid, who's all ears.

"I'm not your boss anymore, Reno, and I imply nothing. Since Vincent became my 'father' he has eaten breakfast –"

"Brunch," Elena corrects.

"– the first meal of every Sunday with us. He confessed that you had… What's the term he used?... Leveled-up your relationship."

I'd like to blame the color my face turns on the sun, but we all know that it would be a lie. "How does that make you feel? Knowin' your dad's fu–"

"Reno!" three voices admonish me at the same time.

"Funning around with me. For Gaia's sake, I'm the only one here that doesn't use bad language around Jade! Isn't that right, sweetheart?"

"Hell yeah, Uncle Reno!" I groan.

"Frankly," Tseng says, choosing to ignore the outburst, "it is equal parts disturbing and relieving." I decide not to ask for a more detailed explanation.

"Anyway, it wasn't nothin' spectacular," I say, swinging my feet over the side of the chair, "just…"

He nods, trying to encourage me. He knows that if I don't get this off my chest, my mood is just gonna get worse.

"Today's my birthday," I blurt out. "I wanted to spend it with him."

"What are you? A girl on her rag?" Rude mocks.

"What does that mean, Uncle Rude?"

"Rude, you're so…" Elena is so incensed she stutters, "You're just rude! I can't believe the misogyny coming out of your mouths' today."

"Don't worry about it 'Laney, Jade is a strong, independent woman. She knows better than that," I comfort.

"Uh huh!" she pipes up, making things worse.

"I thought you didn't know your birthday?" Tseng glares at me.

"I lied, are you really that surprised after all this time?"

"We're you at least of age when you joined the Turks?" Rude asks. He's worried less about my age then, then he is about my age the day or so before, when we met for the first time.

"Sure, Rude, if it makes you feel better."

"At least you're over twenty-one now," Tseng says. "Your drinks are on me, to make up for the birthdays we've missed.

* * *

It hurt so bad I want to cry, but a Turk only cries in private. I'm so relieved to be home, I forget that I don't live by myself anymore. I come in, whipping my t-shirt over my head with the express purpose of getting directly in the shower, when I collide with Vincent in the kitchen. I bounce off of him and fall on my ass.

"Where's the Bomb?" he asks, and grabs for my arm to help me off the floor. I flinch; he hesitates.

"I got sunburn real bad, be careful where you touch me," I explain quickly. He looks again and sees that the part of the arm he is about to touch is redder than a moogle's nose. He adjusts his aim and helps me up.

"Healing Materia?"

"We did the best we could with Tseng's Mastered Materia, but it was too late for anything other than superficial healing. I fell asleep, and by the time the others realized–"

"You didn't feel it? Blisters, peeling… that's a second degree burn."

"Well, maybe asleep isn't the right term. I was passed out drunk, but I was under an umbrella, that's why it's localized in strange patches."

"Did you at least pick up a Remedy?"

"Of course I did. And I bought a bottle of Cactuar lotion. It's a huge industry for Costa del Sol and all the stupid tourists."

"Of which you can now count yourself," he says.

"Yup."

"Come into the bedroom," he exhales loudly, "and I'll lather you up with that lotion."

I follow him into the bedroom and sit crossed legged on the end of our bed. It's not huge – like the one in Icicle Inn – but it's big enough for our more energetic activities, and it fits the room so that there is enough space to walk around it without turning sideways. He perches behind me and sweeps my hair out of the way. His fingers are soft and gentle, but even that touch hurts so bad I'm nauseated.

"Did you think I wouldn't find out? Or that I wouldn't care?" Vincent asks as he massages the lotion into another patch of pain.

It might hurt, but I'm half-asleep with his tenderness, so all the lies I've ever told him whirl in my mind and I can't figure out which one he might have caught me in, so I say the only thing I can think of, "Huh?"

"Your birthday."

"Oh! That?" Relief floods through me. "How'd you find out?"

"Cid was complaining loudly, and often, to Cloud about how 'taxiing us the fuck around' was going to get him in trouble with Shera for missing her birthday. You are her twin; it doesn't take a rocket scientist."

"Ah, yeah, I shoulda figured you two would talk about us eventually."

"Well, he talked more than I did."

"Again, not surprisin'."

The bottle makes an unflattering farting sound as he dumps a second handful of lotion directly on the top of my shoulder; I shiver.

"So what did you have planned for your birthday that I missed in my ignorance?" His voice is right in my ear and his left hand rests on my hip.

"I made reservations at the new Wutainese place on Silence Street. It's supposed to be good, but it's hard to get into right now."

"How did you manage?"

"I fixed one of their walk-in coolers, and the owner and I traded two meals for the payment."

"You should have told me. I wouldn't have gone if I'd known it was your birthday."

"I know, that's why I didn't tell you." I shrug and then wince as the movement causes the wounded skin to stretch and pull.

"Were you able to reschedule?"

"Nah, I gave it to Tifa; she and Marlene ate the meals instead."

The bottle cap clicks softly closed and his hand leaves my tortured back. It feels better, but not good. He crawls further on the bed and lays down, then carefully he tugs on my wrist – blissfully free of burns – until I am on top of him.

"There's an image I need to get out of my head," he rumbles.

"Oh yeah? What's that?"

"The first time we really talked, you told me about the assassination attempt that led to you becoming a Turk." He trails light kisses along my freckled face.

"You mean when I was butt naked beating up that dude?" I'm hoping that's not where his mind has gone, but I want to make him work, a little, for what I hope is coming.

"No, before that."

"Hmm, it was a long time ago, I don't remember exactly what I said to you?"

"Did the sun damage your brain as well?" His hand slips down under the waistband of my pants.

"Oh, that!" I say, realizing that he's never going to outright ask me.

"Yes," he breathes, "that."

* * *

A/N: There is one chapter left in this story, which will be up next Tuesday. I hope you've enjoyed reading it as much as I have writing it. Reno & Vincent's adventures will continue in my second story (already completed) in this arc, Phoenix Down, in two weeks.


	10. Chapter 10 - But of Course I Am

Vincent's eyes track something behind me, but he doesn't look concerned, so I ignore it and keep working on the bike.

"What would you do if your sister attacked you?" he asks.

"Depends: if she's armed, I'd unarm her as gently as I could. If she's unarmed, I'd probably let her hit me a few times before restraining her. Why?"

"Incoming," he says. I turn quickly, and see Shera running toward us, a wrench in hand. Cid is right behind her, trying to catch or stop her, but she keeps slipping out of his grasp.

"What did you do, Vincent?"

"I spoke to Cid; we agreed that the two of you needed to talk it out."

"Looks like that didn't go well for him." I unequip my Materia and hand the Electro-Mag Rod to him. Being without a weapon isn't really an obstacle to an ex-Turk, but I'll just have to hold back my reflexes as well.

She charges at me, swinging the wrench right at my head. I step to the left and knock the weapon from her hands. That doesn't stop her; she kicks and slaps, connecting with a punch to the jaw, and aims for my crotch with her trailing foot.

"Trust me, Vincent," I squeak as I dance around, deflecting more blows. I hear a scuffle between Vincent and Cid.

"Trust him, Cid, I guarantee he won't harm her." I wish I was so sure.

We might be twins, but she is much smaller than me. I put my shoulder into hers and push her against the wall, I grabbed both her swinging hands, and hold them in one of mine above her head. Luckily, she is shorter than me by almost six inches, so when she kicks me in the upper thigh I gasp, but she misses my junk. I pin her feet by stepping on them. We both pant, glaring at each other. I chance a look back, and see Cid is on his stomach, face smooshed into the floor, and his left arm rotated to hold him down.

"I'm sorry, Cid, this has to happen in order for them to move on. Promise me you won't interfere and I'll let you up."

While I'm distracted, Shera spits in my face. "You think you're the first one ta spit on me? I've had worse."

"At least I'm not payin' for the service," she sneers.

"Spit, cum, piss, shit," I growl, "I've had it all done, you spittin' is nothin' to me." We're both descending into slum speech, despite the long journey we've had from our humble beginnings. It's like we are twelve years old again, playing out the argument we should have had back then.

"You lousy whore, why did ya have ta come back!? Why couldn't ya just stay away?"

"You made it out, Sher, why don't I get the same right?"

"You selfish son of a bitch," she yells in my face, beginning to struggle again.

"I was so selfish, I made sure you were safe first," I say, but there is no volume left in me.

"You made all the decisions without me. If I was so smart, why didn't ya trust me ta do what was right? I coulda figured out another way. No twelve-year-old should have been told she was the one who had ta save everyone. Who could live up ta that?"

"Twelve?" Vincent and Cid both say.

"I thought you were fourteen?" Vincent says.

"He's a fuckin' liar, Vincent, or haven't ya figured that out yet? At twelve he took the easy way out and started whorin' and left it to me to be smart enough to save him, to save us all," she screams herself hoarse, then begins to cry in great gulping sobs.

"Have you heard this story before?" Cid asks Vincent.

"No, this is all new to me." Vincent helps Cid off the floor, but neither one comes near us. It's like we're suddenly toxic. I can't look at Vincent. I don't want to see… I can't look at her either.

"You promised me we'd get out together, that we'd never sell our souls ta Shin-ra like _they_ did, you lied, you lied, you lied…" she accuses, her sobs dissolving into silence. She goes slack and I step back just a little, taking the my toes off her boots. She kicks, but has no energy behind it. I let go of her hands.

"I was always a liar, Sher, you knew that." I put my hands on either side of her face, leaning forward until our foreheads touch.

"But you never lied to me." She sniffles, rubbing her hand across her nose. Something in her comes back to the Shera of right now. We aren't kids anymore.

"I lied to you all the time, you were just too innocent to know it. I had to do it, to protect that innocence." She slaps my hands and pushes me away. Like always, I give her whatever she needs: space, time, my pain.

"What about your own?"

"Taken from me by Gus when I was nine. I lost a shipment; he made me blow him to make up for it. It just got worse from there."

"Who's Gus?" Cid asks.

"Mom's pimp," I say.

"Her boyfriend," she corrects.

"The two weren't mutually exclusive."

"Why didn't you tell me?" she asks.

"Because you never performed well under pressure. I wanted you to save us, no doubt you're right, but you wouldn't have been able to if you were worrying about me."

"I could have done it too, it would have been fair."

"You would have been dead by the end of the year."

"You think I'm weak because I'm a girl; well I wouldn't have taken the coward's way out like Karina." There is so much hate in her voice, but at least for a second it is only half aimed at me.

"She didn't kill herself." I rub my jaw and the bruise I know will be there in the morning. "That's just another lie I told you. Gus found out she was pregnant, she refused to let him root around in her with a hanger to kill it. They fought; he blew her brains out."

She loses all color in her face and she slides down the wall, all fight gone out of her.

"Even though you were secretive about it, I knew you'd just started menstruating. I could smell the difference in you. You were suddenly a young woman instead of a child. You wouldn't have let him kill your baby either; you were too good of a person. I was so afraid of being left alone with them that I took away your decision – you're a hundred percent correct – and I'd do it again, every day for the rest of my damned life, if I could make sure you were safe. So hate me, go ahead and hate me, because I kept you alive and whole, because I went to work for Shin-ra even though they ruined our lives, but I wouldn't change a fuckin' thing."

After a while Vincent and Cid move away, giving us privacy.

"I still don't forgive you," she says, "but at least it is for other reasons now."

"It's a start, at least you're talking to me. It's been lonely without you."

She looks like she wants to smile, but she bites the inside of her cheek. "I'm going to need some time to think about this. I wish you'd just…"

"I know, I'm scum, but that's why I need you back, Sher."

"Let me think about all this. You dropped a lot of shit on me today, and hell, I still don't know what to believe. Let's meet at the 7th Heaven next week – say Saturday for lunch."

"Ok, it's a date."

She stands, wipes her hands on the back of her jumpsuit and motions to Cid. As they walk away, Vincent steps up beside me.

"Well," I say. "I guess it's over then, right?"

"Closure is a good thing." His human arm is crossed over the gauntlet. There is no emotion on his face. It's not far from what I imagined. When he is in control, nothing passes his features, but I wish he were angry –

"Something new can begin now."

"It really is all my fault. I shouldn't have lied," I sigh, "Would it make any difference if I apologize?"

"I don't know. You could try."

I take two steps away, clearing my thoughts, and turn back. I try to say something, but I can't. He's still watching them walk away, ignoring my angst. I spin away again and marshal my thoughts better. "I shouldn't have lied to you, Vincent. Is there anything I can do to make it up to you?"

His head swivels sharply to stare at me. "I think we are having two separate conversations. Why are you apologizing? I knew you were lying to me about some of the facts – although I did not understand the extent – but I was a stranger, interrogating you. I had very low expectations of our interview, but for some reason I was nonetheless fascinated by you."

"Wait? You're not mad at me? I thought –"

"What? That the closure I spoke of was between us?"

"Well… yeah."

"You are bizarrely arrogant, Reno. I don't start something lightly, and I am obstinate, as you will see. I also take hints very poorly. Either way, I'm hungry. What do you want for dinner tonight? My treat."

"Um, ok. How about Wutainese tonight?"

"Sounds good. Let's go to that place over on Silence Street you've been wanting to try. They have something called an Avalanche Roll."

He starts down the street without looking to see if I'm following, but of course I am.

* * *

A/N: Thanks for coming along with me on this journey. The further adventures of Reno & Vincent continue in my new story "Phoenix Down," which will begin posting next Tuesday (and is already completed). If you want to be alerted when it comes out, make sure you follow me. I would really appreciate any reviews of this story, and I promise, I always reply (unless they are guest reviews).


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